


A Supernatural Club

by velocityvenom



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Supernatural, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 18:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1438738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velocityvenom/pseuds/velocityvenom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balthazar drags Dean and Castiel along to a bar and the two find things slightly awkward, and some friends pop by the help them out</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Entering the Bar

Castiel stood absolutely rigid, freezing in the cold city streets. He did not understand how his friend Balthazar could stand it. As angels, their senses were far more acute then any average human: being woven into the very fabric of reality makes it far easier to perceive everything within reality. This narrow alleyway was tenfold more claustrophobic for Castiel then Dean standing by him, tenfold more dark. The only light came from a giant neon angel of pink and pastel blue, a garish imitation of the angel over Bethlehem. Where the normal nose picks up the piss and alcohol, an Angel smells that down to its very molecules – pure ethanol stinging Castiel’s nostrils. On top of this he was capable of picking up the rancid garbage, weeks old due to lazy collection, and the bitter salty smell of tears.

All this ruin and sorrow stood clear in Castiel’s perception and yet, he could still only focus on those eyes boring into the back of his head. He was standing in line with his friend Balthazar and his… closer friend, Dean Winchester. He’d always been too shy to vocalise any further than that. Balthazaar had dragged the two along for what he promised to be a spectacular night, at one of the best bars he’s ever been to. Castiel felt that intense gaze drift away from his head and he took the chance to look over his shoulder. He saw a man, just a bit taller than himself with dark hair and a charming smile. His sun-crinkled eyes gleamed with his smile looking directly now at Dean. Castiel felt an inexplicable pang of rage at this man. Who did he think he was looking at Dean like that? If that wasn’t bad enough, he also had the audacity to be wearing the same clothes as him! Castiel never would have thought trench coats would be that popular. He turned back round his jaw set indignantly and extended his invisible wing. He would guard Dean until the ends of the earth so he was not about to have him taken by some strange man in a back alley in New York. Dean glanced over at that point, as if sensing a shift in the atmosphere. He gave Castiel a shy smile – he was also terrible with his words.

 

“Come on love birds, the queue is moving!” chimed the constantly mocking voice of Balthazar. He himself was now looking at the Trench Coat wearing man and gave him a sly smile. He shifted his attention back to his friends and grabbed them by the wrist. “Come on” He said.

“B-Balthazar I think you may not quite understand-“

“Oh I understand perfectly, Cas. Do you?” Castiel went silent again at this remark, causing Balthazar’s cobalt eyes to gleam, in that moment a perfect reflection of Castiel’s.

 

Balthazar, Dean and Cas slowly approached the entrance to this mysterious club, marked only by that neon angel, watching as the masses either entered or were turned away. In front of them some kid tried to enter but was turned away – a young and very odd angel who made no attempt to cover his wings. He was dressed in a bright white toga and all, but hey, this was New York. No one seemed to notice and if they did, nobody cared. It was a terrible fake I.D. anyway. Who on earth or in heaven is called Pit? He’d ask Sam Winchester to do some research later. Eventually they reached the door, and the bouncer. An angel called Xaphania guarded the doors, stern, smart and very, very old. This was a very ancient kind of angel, from an order a time before their own. This angel was not Castiel’s sister – his father was not hers. She stood stalwart, looking both austere and compassionate and seemingly ageless. She was not in a vessel. She was able to pull her essence into this spot and appear visible to the mortal eye – undoubtedly an ancient and powerful kind of angel. Balthazar however, seemed oblivious to this fact.

 

“Xaphania, darling, how are we this fine evening?” He cried, arms spread out above his head in a perfect representation of ecstatic joy. She ignored this.

“We are fine, Balthazar, and we plan to stay that way.”

“I don’t doubt you do my love, it seems to be a fine evening out here”

“It is for me, but your vessel is looking a bit worse for wear”

“Ah don’t worry about me, I’ll just be heading in now with my two friends here” At this Balthazar pushed forwards Dean and Castiel, and also towards each other just a little. Xaphania raised her eyebrow and looked the two up and down before looking straight at Balthazar in the gap between your heads.

“I don’t doubt you will be” she said “but I will not have a repeat of last time, Balthazar”

“Oh no, of course not. I have a cause to keep my wits about me tonight; make sure you let the fine chap behind us in won’t you?”

 

With that, the trio headed into the building. Immediately the horror and filth of the alleyway was replaced with a veritable Garden of Eden, albeit one with disco lights of every hue and subwoofers. Crawling flowers scaled the walls and perfectly trimmed bushes lined the walls and bordered the dance floor. A patch of grass in the northwest corner of the vast hall was covered with picnic blankets. In the northeast the bar spread over nearly half of the wall, each side of the corner. Bottles containing all sorts of soporifics and syrups lined the high shelves. It was like a library of liquor, and neither Cas nor Dean doubted Balthazar had read all the books. They were right of course, that was exactly what had happened ‘last time’. If Balthazaar weren’t an angel he’d probably be dead. Pondering on this Cas came to a sudden realisation. He looked again over the hall, over the dance floor, up to the grass and back to the bar.

 

“Dean” he said, just audible due to a lull in the music “everyone here… they’re-“

“I know” Dean interrupted glancing around the hall nervously. His voice croaked a little and he glanced at Cas as the two spoke simultaneously.

“Angels”

“Gay”

 

The two looked at each other astounding, quickly glanced back over the club again, then looked back at each other again utterly shocked. Dean started to speak rapidly, trying to cover up. Yeah, of course they were angels, good spot Cas etc. Meanwhile, Castiel looked down at his shiny black shoes and blushed. This was a pretty good summary of their relationship, and of their friendship with Balthazar. He was in the corner crying his grace out with laughter.

 

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner!” He cried “trust you two to be able to pull it together like that: Welcome to Club Gayngel you two”

“Club Gayngel? Balthazar I don’t understand” Cas murmured before Dean butted in.

“You brought us to a Gay Bar?” He said incredulously, arching his eyebrow and stepping forward.

“Of course I did” Balthazar spoke like he was the most reasonable person on the planet “I’m gay, Cas is gay, you’re… well I’d pin you as bisexual but still! I thought this would be a good place for you two, it’s a great place for me!”

“Okay, listen pretty boy, I mean, Angel face – shit!” Dean stumbled through his words, leaving Balthazar thoroughly unthreatened “Yeah I… I find people attractive but I mean, I’m not out looking for anybody and even if I were this place is swarming with angels – I don’t have an excellent track record with angels”

“Of course you’re not looking for anybody, you’ve got Mr. Trenchcoat here and that’s fine. In all seriousness you two, I’m doing you a favour here. Don’t worry about the angels, you know for certain we aren’t all bad. Anyway, speaking of Mr. Trenchcoat, I’m off to find my own; I’m fairly certain he’s human but I swear to dad he looks interesting, and hey, it works for you Cas. I’ll catch you two later”

 

With a ruffle of feathers, Balthazar was sitting across the hall at the bar, smirking and waving his hand at Cas and Dean. Dean turned to Cas and just threw his hands in the air, a ridiculous shrug for a ridiculous situation. In all honesty, Dean didn’t think the club looked too bad. The angles seemed to be minding their own thing, the music seemed to switch between club music and classic rock – a bit too glam rock at times but still pretty decent. He liked the music actually, but he would never show it. Everything about this place was surprisingly enticing for Dean and he was actually pretty glad to have the company of Cas without anyone else – he’d become a really important part of Dean’s life without being like some godly be all and end all. He had put down his hands and was smiling at Cas, and was about to suggest that they go get a drink when the smell of roses that filled the air was corrupted by the tang of sulphur. He followed his nose to its source and saw the back of a skinny guy in a leather jacket with dark hair. His face dropped and he started to walk over to him, patting Castiel’s shoulder as he passed. Castiel glanced after him perplexed, but when he saw the way Dean was walking he immediately understood – danger, a hunt was on.


	2. A Demon's advice

Castiel dropped his shoulders and glancing over them, started to work his way through the crowd, tailing after Dean, who himself was now following the demon pretending to text; in actuality Dean was finding that exorcism recording. Man he hadn’t used that in a while but no weapons were allowed in the club and Balthazar had warned him that the bouncer was one serious lady. Cas and Dean followed the demon to the furthest corner of the grassy patch, but stayed back and fell low when he sat down with a group of other figures. Two of them flickered vaguely in the light, a weaker form of those ancient angels, two others were humanoid in shape but they were covered in eyes and seemed to have no mouths, and another had blonde hair and appeared to be wearing a sweater vest. They listened intently as they lay on the grass, the murmured speech was hard to pick up over the music and their own heavy breathing – at least the music was quieter in this area but the chattiest of the strangers spoke in a soft, nearly inaudible British accent. Dean turned his ear to the ground to ask Cas how many of them were demons. Cas signed that only one of them was, and the two shared a look of confusion.  


“Also Aziraphale, my good friend, don’t you perhaps think-“

 

Aziraphale? Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise, Aziraphale was a very old friend of Castiel’s. A different Garrison, but a good friend nonetheless. What on earth was he doing with a demon? His thought process was interrupted when he found that old friend standing over him offering out a hand.

“Don’t you think it’s rather dirty down there?” He chirped cheerily. Castiel warily took the hand and stood up, forcing Dean to automatically do the same. He would not fail in protecting Cas, until the day he died. Aziraphale spread his arms wide and hugged Cas tightly, sparking more than a tad of jealousy in Dean, though it was completely unwarranted. Cas and Dean shared an uneasy glance as soon as Aziraphale let go. “Oh it has been too long Cas, please, do sit with us”

 

Cas and Dean followed the Angel to the strange group, much under the impression they were in a hostage situation rather than a simple picnic. Aziraphale offered them some bread but both were sure that it could have been laced with cyanide. They looked around the circle, getting a much clearer view of everyone present now that they were in the circle. The two fading figures, the ancient angels, became more visible, and they saw a little old lady they hadn’t noticed before, sitting happily between the two giant humanoids. Aziraphale was showing no signs of distress or forced behaviour and finally, the Demon seemed like a pretty simple guy. It was suspicious.

 

“You’re a hunter” He said, smiling at Dean.

“One of the best” He replied, shifting his weight forward to try and menace him.

“Good on you, the wars between heaven and hell are stupid anyway, you’ve got the right idea. Me and Az here had to stop an apocalypse a while back, that was one heck of an event”

“Well would you look at that it seems we have something in common” Dean retorted. It was meant to be nonchalant and vaguely menacing, but it provoked a large grin from the Demon.

“That’s the spirit” He chuckled “The name’s Crowley”

 

Dean felt his heart skip a beat. This could be no coincidence. There is no way there could be two god damn snarky British demons called Crowley, that would be too much for Dean. Somehow, Crowley has taken another vessel and was setting this whole thing up.

 

“Very funny Crowley, get out the vessel know or I will send your ass straight back to hell” He growled.

“What? I’m not sure I understand?” He glanced over to Aziraphale looking worried before Dean grabbed him the scruff of the neck and pulled him so close to his face that those green eyes looked like giant burning suns.

“Come on Crowley, don’t play dumb. It’s me, Dean Winchester, and you, the so called King of Hell who only became a Demon because his weiner was too short” Silence fell over the circle. They watched the moment between the demon and the hunter in utter trepidation. Crowley’s mouth trembled and shook until he couldn’t hold it in longer. A tear rolled out his face as he burst out laughing. Dean chucked him to the floor, disgusted.

“No wait, I’m sorry my dear boy, I’m not laughing at you. I know who you’re talking about. You’re Crowley took on my name after _I_ made that very deal with him. I found it funny then and I still find it funny today”

“What?” Dean said, a chink of doubt coming into his steely exterior.

“Yeah, I am the original Crowley, one of the snakes of Eden you see” his speech slowly became more like hissing as he said this, and Dean noticed a forked tongue slip out his mouth at one point “I have no vessel I am just a very clever demon. I understand your Crowley copied my methods too – I created the M25 for hell, he turned hell into an eternal queue, brilliant!” Silence hit the circle as they waited on Dean to process. Would he accept that information or not? Cas rested his hand lightly on Dean’s shoulder.

 

“I think they’re telling the truth Dean” he whispered.

“Of course, of course” Aziraphale nervously butted in, rushing over to Crowley and hugging him tight. “Crowley wouldn’t hurt a fly, believe us, we’re both fed up with our respective agencies” For the third time, silence fell. This was the final silence, before Dean’s final verdict.

“Fine” he muttered “you wouldn’t be the first monster that has turned out good”

 

The group settled once again into their positions and Aziraphale picked up Crowley and gave him a peck on the cheek. Cas noticed this and blushed, turning away only to be greeted with Dean looking right at him. Naturally, Dean also blushed and turned away. Aziraphale took it upon himself to introduce everyone else in the circle to make sure that nobody wound up dead or worse – these ‘hunters’ did not sound like something to trifle with. The two ancient angels were Baruch and Balthamos, and they were involved in the uprising against the God of their world and era. Baruch had died, but the two were revived in this world due to a far more merciful god. Even so, the two were practically inseperable – the split had been painful enough the first time round and they never wanted to face it again. They spent the entire evening in each other’s arms, often too busy to contribute to conversation. The odd looking humanoids were indeed angels of a sort, but from an odd place that had its own reality, a peculiar microcosm, so therefore had very different angels. The old lady was introduced as Old Woman Josie. She appeared to have no surname, instead taking on that description of her as her only name. She spoke for the angels a lot of the time, though she favoured the opinions of the black one. He was apparently ‘far more helpful’. Lastly Aziraphale spent a bit of time explaining himself and Crowley. They lived together in Aziraphale’s bookshop, he was pretty old fashioned and loved reading, whilst Crowley loved music and his car. They enjoyed gardening together however, and the good cop bad cop routine really worked out well for them. All the while, the two held their hands together on the floor, something which Castiel and Dean could not simply ignore. After Dean and Crowley had finished talking about Cars – Bentley versus impala, maintenance, general adoration and so on – Aziraphale steered the conversation to learning more about his old friend Castiel.

 

“So Castiel, Dean, how long have you two been seeing each other? How did you meet?”

“Seeing each other?” Dean repeated lamely “Well I see him nearly every day but I don’t think you’re quite on the same wavelength here I mean… Cas?”

“What? Oh right yeah. No Dean and I are very good friends, uhh, we do have a profound bond but I don’t quite understand what you’re saying – we met when I raised him out of hell”

 

As Cas and Dean blustered through their speeches, Aziraphale loked right into Crowley’s eyes, and the two came to an understanding. Crowley put out a hand to silence the two blustering fools before him.

 

“Listen you two, I’m not gonna give you the ‘it’s nothing to be ashamed of’ speech because that is utter rubbish that just makes people feel like there could be something to be ashamed of. I’m just gonna tell you that millennia of life let’s a guy read people well and sorry for the spoiler, you both like each other. You’re not ineffable, and it’s not complicated. Don’t worry about what the other will think of you it will only be positive, as for everybody else, they won’t care either. We’re in a Gay Bar for heck’s sake!”

 

Cas turned his head slowly from the floor towards Dean, shifting from embarrassment to hope and trepidation. He raised his gaze slowly, ready to catch Deans eye but Dean was already looking at him. Cas put his hand behind him and rested his weight on it. He smiled. Dean smiled. Cas closed his eyes as if preparing himself and suddenly, he felt Deans lips on his. It tingled, and then it was gone. A simple kiss on the lips and he could already feel his heart soar. Suddenly his angelic senses weren’t enough, he needed to be able to sense more. He suddenly became aware of everything, the intense green of Dean’s eyes, matching perfectly that jacket that carried a scent so familiar but indescribable. The light shining on Dean’s face, that fact his hand rested on his own – Castiel suddenly realised it all. Dean smiled wide and his eyes crinkled, another thing Cas rarely saw. They were enraptured and even the bright red that painted their cheeks and noses couldn’t perturb them because who cared what anyone thought really.

 

“Hey Cas, I really, really do like you”

“I like you a lot too, Dean Winchester” and with that, he leant forward and kissed Dean again, giggling as they kissed, along with the laughter of the rest of the group. Even Balthazar was smiling at them from the bar, raising a glass to them.

“Took them long enough” he chuckled.


End file.
